Quoth the Raven'
by speakerbox
Summary: A collection of songfics, but instead of songs they are poems by Edgar Allen Poe. I shall call them Teen Titan POEms.1.The Raven; somewhat BBxT and somewhat BBxR 2.Annabel LeeStarfire Lee; Starx?
1. The Raven

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or the Edgar Allen Poe poem called 'The Raven' so there! Your powerless!

This is like a song fic I guess, only instead of a song, it has poetry. So, uhh, try to read it and review. I guess.

'thinking'

"speaking"

narrator and actions

_poem_

Its not very good, but here goes....

_Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,   
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,  
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,  
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.  
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-   
Only this, and nothing more."_

It was a dark, late night in Jump City. Most people would be asleep, but that is not where our story is. Our story begins with a boy, a rather morbid boy, with skin the shade of grass. He, like most people in our fair city, was lying in bed, but instead of just gently sleeping, he was thinking. Thinking rather hard, a habit he was not use to, of a certain someone. A someone nameless in the face of the world. Tired of his mindless thinking, he picked up a comic book and began to skim it. It was a quite interesting comic but he could not get his thoughts on it, he was still to busy thinking. Just as the poor, depressed boy was about to doze off, he heard a slight knocking on his door. ' Who the hell is awake at this time of night?' he thought to himself.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,  
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.  
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow  
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-  
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-   
Nameless here for evermore.

It was extremely cold in the tower that he lived in. Being too cold to get up at the moment, he just merely sat up in his top bunk. Again, his thoughts began to haunt him. Chilling thoughts that made his hands tremble. It was ironic, in a sense, that this boy, a rather 'happy-go-lucky', could come up with such depressing thoughts. Yet still again, his thought rounded around a loss love of his. 'Love? No it was not love. Friendship? Yes, it was merely friendship.' He pondered to himself. He sat up, still, and wished for it to be morning, for him to be healed of his sorrow for his loss of Terra, who was loss to him, and hated, forever.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain  
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;  
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,  
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-  
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-   
This it is, and nothing more."

He came out of his brief visit towards insanity, and took a good look at his room. 'Damn, messy, pigsty.' He thought, and at that moment he realized how depressing his life could be sometimes. It was then that he remembered the knocking on his door. "Why the hell, would anyone knock on my door so late? Damn insomnia."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,  
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;  
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,  
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,  
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;-   
Darkness there, and nothing more.

He began to feel lonesome as his voice echoed through out the depressing room. He started to make his way towards the door. "Cy?" he asked, "Or Rob, or Star? Sorry, but I was sleeping, and you could knock just a little louder next time. I mean really, I thought it was just me hearing things." He then opened the door. No one.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,  
fearing,  
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;  
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,  
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"  
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-   
Merely this, and nothing more.

He stood there, in a day dream, just dazing off into the empty corridor he found. All was silent until he heard a wearied voice reply, "Terra." At first he thought it was just him imagining things, until he answered back in the same wearied voice, "Terra." It was only him and the darkness now.

_Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,  
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.  
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:  
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-  
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-  
'Tis the wind and nothing more." _

He walked back into his room, his pigsty, and began to ponder to himself again, and to lie there in his top bunk and just wallow in his own lonesomeness. "Damn, I'm depressed." He said out loud, an action that he rarely did. It was then that he heard a 'tap, tap, tap' coming from somewhere in his room. 'The window?' he thought. Could it be? "Uhh, maybe its just the wind." He stated out loud once more. 'Man, I really have to calm down.' he thought, 'I'm letting my mind play tricks on me.' Even with his comforting thoughts, he had to find out for himself what was at the window. "Damn wind." He again lied to himself out loud.

_Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and  
flutter,  
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;  
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed  
he;  
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-   
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-   
Perched, and sat, and nothing more. _

As he made his way to the window, many rushing thoughts came into his mind. 'What if it's not the wind? What if its ...' but he never finished that train of thought, for he had already opened the window, to reveal Raven. Raven. His team mate Raven. Boy, was he glad to see her. "Boy, am I glad to see you." He now stated out loud. She said nothing but just sat down on one of his old, cluttered chairs.

_Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,  
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.  
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no   
craven,  
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-  
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"   
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."_

She sat there smiling, an action she rarely did, it was just one of those nights where everything turned upside down. "Well, someone's brave enough to fly up to a window tonight." The green boy stated, in a rather awkward tone. It wasn't every night his team mate Raven came to his room."I tried the door, but no one answered. And I know how depressed you are right now." The rather dark girl stated sharply. "How did you know?" "I am Raven, I am empathic."

_Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,  
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;  
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being  
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-  
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,  
With such name as "Nevermore." _

The green boy wondered, 'She is here to see me? Well of course she is, after all this is my room'. But still, her smiling so cynically, it was a rare site by far. He wondered 'How many get to see her smile?' He could only imagine. He felt rather special.

_But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only  
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.  
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-  
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown   
before-  
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."  
Then the bird said, "Nevermore." _

As the girl now sat there, feeling awkward and rather misplaced in his cluttered room, she wondered whether this was a mistake. 'For me to be here? No. It can't be. Can it?' she wondered silently, while staring at the lonesome room. She got up, only for a moment, though. She had forgoten the green one was still there until he said, "Your leaving? No surprise. Everyone else has given up." "No." her only word to him now.

_Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,  
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,  
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster  
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-  
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore  
Of 'Never- nevermore'." _

He was startled, and yet, so was she. She slowly sat back down on the chair, in grief, grief of boredom. As she sat, he clearly pondered. Pondered of her, and how she came to be. Her past, her family, her hopes, her secrets, no one knew but she. On an impulse she began to hum, a tune that struck grief in both of their hearts.

_But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,  
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and  
door;  
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking  
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-  
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore   
Meant in croaking "Nevermore." _

Obviously frightened by her startling humming, he jumped just slightly from his sitting, sitting silently on his bed. He did no know what to say, but instead pondered on his team mates words 'And I know how depressed you are right now.' What on earth had she meant by that?

_This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing  
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;  
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining  
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,  
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,  
She shall press, ah, nevermore! _

He sat there still, well in his thoughts, as he hesitated for something to say. Her eyes of violet were now burning him like a demon, a demon cringing in it's own core. He moved around his bottom bunk in an awkward way to remove himself from her frightening gaze. It was useless however. For he should feel uncomfortable forever more. The thought of Terra now pressed back into his mind, it had only been minutes since Raven had entered but it seemed like eternity since he had thought of Terra. He liked forgetting about her, it was soothing. 'Someday I shall forget her, that bitch, that traitor. That Terra.' He thought. He then become red with embarrassment as Raven began to laugh. 'Had she read my mind?' he thought, but only more laughing from the violet haired demon. Things around his room began to melt, including his comic.

_Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer   
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.   
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he  
hath sent thee  
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!  
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"  
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." _

Her laugh, so gentle and sweet, but with no innocence. Just cruelty, much like Terra's. It was her laugh, it was Terra's laugh. It was his curse for ever more. 'I must forget her. I must never remember that Terra. She is gone. I shall forget her.' He thought. "Nope." Was the girls reply, "You may only wish."

_"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or  
devil!-  
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,  
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-  
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-  
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"  
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."_

"Prophet?" he asked her. "Are you prophetic? Can you tell me Raven, can you tell me, will I forget of Terra? Will I soon heal from these marks she gave me? Will my broken heart heal?"

"I am sorry Beast Boy. But, no. You will never."

_"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or  
devil!  
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-  
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,  
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-  
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."  
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." _

"Raven?," he asked her, "Will she be in heaven? Will she die and go to that great beyond? Will I follow? Will I meet her again?"

"Never." Her simple reply.

_"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked,  
upstarting-  
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!  
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!  
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!  
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my  
door!"  
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."_

"Leave me Raven!" he now shouted, waking half the tower in which they stowed, "Leave me now! If what you say shall be, than I have no purpose! I should never have asked you! I should not know! Please leave me now, and never speak her name to me again! Take her away! Make me forget! Stop this aching heart I call my own!"

"I say, no."

_And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting  
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;  
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,  
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the  
floor;  
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor  
Shall be lifted- nevermore! _

And he stayed there, all night weeping, weeping for his lost Terra. The Raven, his Raven, just sat there, with a somewhat grin for what the future will hold. From what he did not know, but would have to see for himself.


	2. Starfire Lee

I decided to add on to my other POEm/story things, with this POEm. This was always one of my favorite Edgar Allen Poe poems, and while I read it the other day it reminded me of a certain Titan character. Can you guess whom? I might make more Poe/Titans tie in thing, like my last one and this one. This one is the exact POEm except the italicized words, those I changed. It was originally called 'Annabel Lee' I changed to Starfire Lee.

Reviwers:

Archer of the Titans: wow, this is ironic. You are probably one of my favorite writers on , so it makes me so happy that you liked my other POEm. Thank you so much for the review.

Happy-Raven: Thank you for saying it rocked. I reread it and found so many mistakes, but when I tried to upload it again with corrections, it didn't load properly. But yes there was suppose to be another word in front of somewhat.

Titansfan545: thank you very much. –bows-

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It was many and many a year ago,  
In a _tower_ by the sea,  
That a maiden there lived whom you may know  
By the name of _Starfire Lee_;--  
And this maiden she lived with no other thought  
Than to love and be loved by me.

She was a _Titan_ and I was a _Titan_,  
In this kingdom by the sea,  
But we loved with a love that was more than love--  
I and my _Starfire Lee_ --  
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven  
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,  
In this _tower_ by the sea,  
A wind blew out of a cloud by night  
Chilling my _Starfire Lee_;  
So that her high-born kinsman came  
And bore her away from me,  
To shut her up in a sepulchre  
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,  
Went envying her and me:--  
Yes! that was the reason (as all _Titans_ know,  
In this _tower_ by the sea)  
That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling  
And killing my _Starfire Lee_.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love  
Of those who were older than we--  
Of many far wiser than we-  
And neither the angels in Heaven above,  
Nor the demons down under the sea,  
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul  
Of the beautiful _Starfire Lee_:--

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams  
Of the beautiful _Starfire Lee_;  
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes  
Of the beautiful _Starfire Lee_;  
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side  
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,  
In her sepulchre there by the sea--  
In her tomb by the side of the sea.

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Meh, I didn't like this one as much,...

-dies of bad writing skills-

-but just because I'm dead, gives you no right to not review, so be a dear and review please-


	3. The Cells

Hear the prisoners in the cells-  
Prison cells!  
What a world of loneliness their melody foretells!  
How they jingle, jingle, jingle,  
In the icy air of night!  
While the stars that oversprinkle  
All the heavens, seem to twinkle  
With a crystalline fright;  
Keeping time, time, time,  
In a sort of Runic rhyme,  
To the horrors that so musically wells  
From the cells, cells, cells, cells,  
Cells, cells, cells-  
From the jingling and the horrors of the cells.

II

Hear the mellow prison cells,  
High- security cells!  
What a world of emptiness their lonliness foretells!  
Through the balmy air of night  
How they cry out their own fright!  
From the molten-powered gloats,  
And an in tune,  
What a liquid ditty floats  
To the jail bird that listens, while she floats  
On the moon!  
Oh, from out the sounding cells,  
What a gush of guards voluminously wells!  
How it swells!  
How it dwells  
On the Future! how it tells  
Of the freedom that impels  
To the freeing and the reaping  
Of the cells, cells, cells,  
Of the cells, cells, cells, cells,  
cells, cells, cells-  
To the sighing and the lying of the cells!

III

Hear the loud alarum bells-  
Breaking out of their cells!  
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!  
In the startled ear of night  
How they scream out their affright!  
Too much horrified to speak,  
They can only shriek, shriek,  
Out of tune,  
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,  
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,  
Leaping higher, higher, higher,  
With a desperate desire,  
And a resolute endeavor,  
Now- now to sit or never,  
By the side of the pale-faced moon.  
Oh, the cells, cells, cells!  
What a tale their terror tells  
Of Despair!  
How the guns clang, and clash, and roar!  
What a horror they outpour  
On the bosom of the palpitating air!  
Yet the ear it fully knows,  
By the twanging,   
And the clanging,  
How the danger ebbs and flows:  
Yet the ear distinctly tells,  
In the jangling,  
And the wrangling,   
How the danger sinks and swells,  
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the cells-  
Of the cells-  
Of the cells, cells, cells, cells,  
Cells, cells, cells-  
In the clamor and the clangor of the dirty little cells!

IV

Hear the tolling of the cells-  
Back to the Cells!  
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!  
In the silence of the night,  
How we shiver with affright  
At our melancholy menace of the Titans!  
For every evil that afloats  
From the rust within their throats  
Is a fight.  
And the Titans- ah, the Titans-  
They that dwell up in the tower,  
All Alone  
And who, fighting, fighting, fighting,  
In that muffled monotone,   
Feel a glory in so rolling  
On evil's heart a stone-  
They are neither foe nor friend-  
They are neither brute nor human-   
They are fighters, and defenders:  
And their nemesis it is who tolls;  
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,  
Rolls  
A paean from the cells!  
And his merry bosom swells  
With the paean of the bells!  
And he dances, and he yells;  
Keeping time, time, time,   
In a sort of Runic rhyme,  
To the paean of the cells-  
Of the cells:  
Keeping time, time, time,  
In a sort of Runic rhyme,  
To the terror of the cells-  
Of the cells, cells, cells-  
To the sobbing of the cells;  
Keeping time, time, time,   
As they fight, fight, fight,  
In a happy Runic rhyme,  
To the rolling of the cells-  
Of the cells, cells, cells:  
To the tolling of the cells,  
Of the cells, cells, cells, cells-  
cells, cells, cells-  
To the moaning and the groaning of the cells.

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Don't get it? Neither do I, I just wrote it from Edgar Allen Poe's poem "The Bells" it was a weird POEm and it symbolizes a lot, but not one of my best chapters. –sigh- review though, please.


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